Admonitions
by Intricacy
Summary: He left and wished to put her behind, but she refused to be forgotten. One year later, he returns only to find that she is already embarking on a dangerous journey without him. She's off to see the matchmaker... but why does it hurt so much? MS
1. Chapter 1

One Year's Chance

Disclaimer: I don't own Mulan.

Author's Note: Sorry. Temptation overcame and I wrote a new story. Poo me.

First ever Mulan fanfic. This story is **not compatible with Mulan II**, since I am not fond of its sequal. Oh yeah, the names and places in this story are made up unless otherwise said. But other than that, hope you enjoy! Please review!

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The truth was a very strange thing indeed. While it wasn't always pleasant--actually, it wasn't most of the time--it could be rather blunt or told in a cunningly confusing way. But in the blunt truth, she was disappointed. After inviting him over to dinner, he did not do much but speak courteously to her parents and seem a bit... well, _quiet_, to put it one way. Standoffish, even. He barely glanced her way at all the whole time. 

In the blunt truth, she'd hoped for something more. Perhaps a secret smile shared between them; a small talk after dinner instead of the practical "The food was lovely; thank you for inviting me to stay" over-used phrase. And Mulan watched Shang leave that fateful night, when the world she thought she knew came crashing down a second time.

When it came crashing, it was, well, what one could say was blunt and discrete at the same time. For a while, the truth was well hidden from her, but then it was revealed. And her world stopped spinning.

She had been studying quietly by herself in the library when her mother suddenly arrived, disrupting her from her absolute concentration. "Mulan," she called softly, a bit of anxiety in her voice. "Your father and I want to see you in the dining room."

Mulan looked up from her studies and frowned. What could be so urgent to call her father down from his daily routine? His knee was getting worse and he knew that he shouldn't move around quite as much, or so said the doctor. "I'll be there, Mama," she called, marking her place in the book before putting it in its proper place. She hurried to find her mother, who seemed rather ready to fall over if Mulan had arrived only a second later.

They walked to the dining room in silence, Mulan's mind swimming in thoughts all the while. What was so important? What was so grave? She dreaded to hear of a death. It wouldn't be Shang's, would it? She bit her lip as she suppressed the growing suspense and anxiety that started to worm its way through her.

Her father was already seated at the table, and her mother found a seat as well. Mulan tried her best to hold her curiosity in, but the words came pouring out of her mouth. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," her mother said gently, her tone slightly warm.

Visible relief spread throughout Mulan. She released the breath that she'd been holding since her mother called for her that day. "Then what's happened?" she asked as she, too, took a seat.

A small smile spread across Fa Li's face as she said, glancing at her husband with a warm look in her eye, "We've found you a husband."

The blood that once rushed through Mulan's veins suddenly ran cold. Her heart stopped pumping and all the color drained out of her face. "What?" she choked out, looking from parent to parent. Fa Li's face was slightly excited; Fa Zhou's looked a bit crestfallen--just the tiniest bit, she likely had only imagined it.

Marriage was a common concept in the area, and she wasn't one to deny that; however, it had never occurred to her that _she_ was falling into the common action as well. When she thought of her future, she thought about adventure. She hadn't given much thought about marriage--not since all hopes were killed that night one year ago when Li Shang had left their home.

She'd dreamt up some wild stories--or slightly more realistic ones--that he'd return someday and propose to her. It never happened. And day after day passed, and reality sunk in. She accepted--with a bit of pain--that she would never marry Shang.

But suddenly the world came crashing down on her. She had difficulty hearing; she had difficulty breathing. She felt as though a weight had been dropped onto her chest and shattered her bones.

Fa Li, who, in her own excitement, had mistaken her daughter's horror for delight, smiled warmly. "Yes," she said, continuing. "To Hei Jing-Qiou, from Mei Shan. He has a sister named Hei Ai-Tian. His father is a captain in the Imperial army."

Mulan had no response. She could make none. She was in too stunned of a trance to react at all. Her mind was cleared of all ideas; her nobility had been slashed. She just watched her mother, wide-eyed, until Fa Zhou stood up and said, "Mulan, let me talk to you in the other room."

Mulan stumbled up, following his father as he entered another room in the house. He sighed deeply before speaking, rubbing his temples.

"I... _delayed_ in finding you a husband," he told her wearily, "because I had been hoping that Captain Shang would make his prescence known, but he has never appeared." Faltering slightly, he looked up at Mulan's blank expression before continuing. "I couldn't let your life pass by waiting," he said. "Jing-Qiou is a very honorable man, I believe you'll find."

Mulan was slightly confused. She never told her father--or anyone, for that matter--about her feelings. How had he known?

Then again, her father was rather observant. It was why he was so high-ranked when he was still an active military general.

However, to know that her father _did try_, in the first place, to arrange a marriage between Shang and her, was enough. She knew, despite whatever she felt, she had to accept her position in society. She'd already been reckless enough; she didn't want to possibly disgrace her family any further.

"I know," she whispered, her voice low. "I'll be fine. I'll--I'll marry him." Her eyes flickered up toward her father's face; his eyes showed his falters.

"Are you sure?" he said, doubting her words. He was able to tell that night when Captain Li came over for dinner about Shang's feelings for Mulan, and vice versa. "Once a word is spoken, you can never take it back completely."

Mulan nodded. "It is my duty," she said quietly, looking away from him.

Fa Zhou sighed deeply as he moved toward the door. "Your honor and duties are extremely important," he agreed, "but so is your heart."

And to this, Mulan had nothing to say in return, and watched her father leave the room to talk quietly with her mother. And since then, everything was changed. Nothing was ever normal now. Her heart could protest all it wanted, but it was much too late now; she couldn't say no anymore.

The week after, Mulan met the young man to whom she was to be married to. The suspense and anxiety that was built up from the days previous was too much for Mulan, and she was thankful--though extremely apprehensive still--about meeting Jing-Qiou.

He turned out to be an average-height young man with serious eyes and large hands. He moved forward slightly, and Mulan kept her head bowed down. What had she done to herself? She'd trapped herself into a prison of matrimony to a man whom she did not know.

"Fa Mulan," he started, his voice deep and slightly gruff, not at all like Shang's--not that it mattered, of course, "it is a pleasure to meet you."

Mulan did not look up and said in an even voice, "As it is to you, Hei Jing-Qiou." She raked her brain; what had that matchmaker spoken about? "Would you care for tea?"

"Tea?" Jing-Qiou asked. "Tea would be nice."

Mulan thus had no choice but to invite them to the sitting room as she went to make tea. When she came back, she noticed that their conversation was light and cautious. As she set the tea down on the table, however, and placed the china cups before each person and started to pour, Jing-Qiou's father began to speak.

"So, Mulan," he said as he accepted the tea from her, "I hear that you went into the army to fight the Huns."

Mulan looked up, startled. She hadn't expected this topic of conversation. When she understood his words, she bowed her head down again and said, "Yes, I did." She didn't pursue the topic, but apparently he was not done.

"Who was your captain?" he asked casually.

"Captain..." Mulan's voice got caught in her throat as she attempted to speak his name. "Captain Li Shang." Her mind started to wander off; why did he not speak to her in the past year at all? Her risen hopes were dashed that night when he stayed for dinner. Did he honestly dislike her? She hoped not, but she regretfully believed it true.

"Ah," Jing-Qiou's father said, nodding his head. "Captain Li. I hear he was almost killed."

Mulan's anxiety started to rise as her stomach clenched into a fist. "That might be," she said, "but the fact remains that he was not killed in war."

"Yes, that is true," Jing-Qiou's father said discardingly. "But his father _did_ die, however; it is a pity. He was a good man--a good general."

Mulan then visibly stiffened, but only slightly--she wanted to steer clear of this topic. She attempted to do so by mentioning his own career as a captain. "I hear you are a captain as well," Mulan said politely.

However, it seemed as though he was not done with what he wanted to say. "Yes, I am," Jing-Qiou's father said. "But I could never be compared to General Li. He should not have died so early on. But what's done is done, I suppose. Jing-Qiou, have you heard of Captain Li as of late?"

Jing-Qiou looked up at his father's calling his name and replied, "I have crossed paths with him once or twice in the army."

Mulan suddenly looked up at Jing-Qiou, desiring to know more, but he did not give anything away. His father was watching Mulan intently and merely chuckled. "Jing-Qiou here," he said, patting his son on the back, "is also in the army. He has the potential to be a general someday. Everyone says so."

Mulan had an urge to ask what was included in 'everyone,' but it would have been deemed improper by the matchmaker and she kept silent. Instead, she said, "Is that so?"

Jing-Qiou's father only nodded proudly and said, "Yes, and he is an excelling soldier. You won't have to go back into war again, Mulan, with him around. You will stay home and live the life of a fortunate housewife."

Mulan's jaw clenched slightly and her fingers faltered. Was that the life he thought that she wanted? Was that the life that she thought _she_ wanted? She strongly doubted it. She wanted something more... something with a _bit_ more adventure. And, with a husband as serious and conservative as Jing-Qiou, she highly doubted she'd ever recieve what she wanted. Especially with no love in the marriage.

However, she managed to choke out a strained, "Lovely." Jing-Qiou's father did not notice her discomfort and beamed.

"Mulan will be an excellent wife for Jing-Qiou," he said to Fa Zhou. "I am glad that we have agreed on this match."

Mulan glanced desperately at her father; he did not seem too pleased at the opposing father's behavior. He only nodded slightly. She supposed that he did not approve of the match much.

The family insisted on staying until after dinner, when they finally departed. And Mulan couldn't be more relieved.

But along with the relief, there was pain. It was evident that Jing-Qiou's father--who later made himself known as Shwa-Kwong--would not accept a break in the proposal. In other words, Mulan was trapped with Jing-Qiou, whatever happened--other than death.

And she couldn't help but feel the least heartbroken.

That night, as she went to bed. She dreamt of her time of freedom--in the Imperial army. And she dreamt of Shang.

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Shang looked up at the sky. It was getting dark. He sighed, heading back into his own home. He was procrasinating, and he knew it; he hadn't contacted Mulan in any way, shape, or form in the past year. It was just much too difficult to deal with the feelings that he was suffering everytime he thought of her. Sudden emotions would just swarm over him and he'd manage to think, "It's okay to leave it for another day."

Whatever he could do to rid himself of such uncomfortable feelings.

But now it was much too late, and there was a large possibility that Mulan was not waiting. She probably didn't feel for him like he felt for her, and he was rather broken because of it. He knew he'd acted a fool on his great chance that dinner one year ago, and he passed it up. But if only he could go back in time...

Pity that he couldn't.

And he knew he would have delayed another day--which would lead to another year, likely--if he hadn't had matters to discuss with her.

He sighed, withdrawing paper, ink, and a brush from his desk. Dipping the brush in the ink, he began to write. He could only hope that it he was not too late.

But as soon as the brush touched the paper with its black ink, he realized he could not write. He sighed, shaking his head. There was only one thing he _could_ do.

He had to go to her town and see her... show her how he felt. Tell her face to face. And repent for his indifferent attitude during their last meeting.

He nodded, comfirming this thought. Tomorrow morning, he'd set out to see her. With any luck, he'd see her within a week.

And maybe he could finally win her over.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for all your awesome reviews!

I apologize for this mistake in the previous chapter... the ping-ying I used got mixed up, since I was too lazy to memorize the chart and made the names up as to what I can remember (however inaccurately) of it. Of course, some of it still isn't precisely certain, but "Shwa-Kwong" has been changed to "Shua-Guong." Thanks!

...And guess what? I spell-checked this time! XD Heh heh.. If you see any more grammatical/spelling mistakes, please tell me!

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**A Cultural Note (For Other Fanfic Writers, PLEASE READ):**

I've noticed a lot of this going around... After marriage, many fanfictions have referred to Fa Mulan as "Li Mulan."

**I would like to address the fact that, in almost all circumstances, women _do not_ change their surname after being wed**

The changing of surnames is mainly from the Western culture. But--as most of you already know--the children recieve the surname from the father, rather than the mother.

So please keep Mulan's surname "Fa." I'd really appreciate it if you did; it's just something that's really been bothering me lately--sorry. Thanks!

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Chapter Two

Mulan sighed. She'd met Jing-Chiou about a week ago--six, seven days, was it? And his family--his father, mainly--never failed to stop by their house at least once a day, just to "check up," as it was worded. But she knew better. They arrived to make sure that she wasn't betraying them, or, in other terms, thinking about another man. They arrived to make sure that she would always be the perfect housewife that she didn't want to be.

And that she couldn't be.

She felt as though she were constantly trapped within herself, like she did before she went into war. And though she'd never paid much attention to it before, being disguised as a man was the best time of her life. Complicated, but she was finally free from all of her bounds.

She knew what she had to do. Though her parents were both very reasonable and wise, they were bound to tradition and honor. She needed to speak with her grandmother.

Her grandmother, in all honesty, was often considered a bit crazy by certain standards, but it was all relative. During her youthful age, she had been just as independent and as much of a rule-breaker--if not more--as Mulan. And she was the one person Mulan could honestly relate to when it came to woman's rights.

She stood up from her chair, walking quietly and deftly toward her grandmother's bedroom. Before entering, she knocked, and slowly pushed the door open. "Grandmama?" she called quietly. No one was there.

She sighed, turning around, only to meet her grandmother, standing behind her the whole time. "Huh!" she said. "By the way you act, you'd think I am old!"

Mulan only smiled slightly and kept in her comments, getting straight to the point. "Grandmama," Mulan said, slightly exasperated, "what do you think about Hei Shua-Guong and his son, Hei Jing-Qiou?"

Her grandmother crossed her arms and said rather bluntly, "You mean that fat dictator and his faithful minion? No. How that guy ever managed to survive a war, I have no idea. His fellow soldiers must have rolled him down the hill, trampling the Huns in the process!"

Mulan had to fight to keep her smile in. Her grandma's explanation was true enough; Shua-Guong was the one that dictated all the commands and his son only stood by his side, his own thoughts unvoiced. And the father was quite rounded aw well, but that was not the answer to her question. "No what?" Mulan asked, frowning, slightly confused.

"You can't marry him," her grandmother said. "You'll be unhappy."

Mulan sighed. "I know," she said, "but I can't do anything about it."

"Run away," her grandmother said as though it were the easiest thing in the world. "Run away, like you did before. And go find that Li Shang of yours."

Mulan colored slightly her grandmother's direct statement and insisted, "I can't. They'll find me. And besides, he doesn't consider me anything more than a soldier. And he is nothing but a captain to me." It was a phrase that she'd repeated so often in her head, that it no longer came out stuttered when she spoke it, but the pain never completely subsided.

"That's a pity," her grandmother said, "because that Shang was a real--"

Mulan quickly quieted her grandmother as she heard footsteps advancing. Her grandmother heard it too and fell silent, something that Mulan was entirely grateful for. She didn't know what would happen if Hei Shua-Guong heard them conversing about her previous captain--someone who Shua-Guong appeared to highly detest.

But once Mulan realized who was at the door, she'd wished that it _had_ been Shua-Kwong and his son.

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It had taken a little longer than he had hoped, but once he had arrived there, he was anxious and wished that the trip had taken longer than it had. He'd spent the previous night at the neighboring town, making sure to bathe and washed his soiled clothes. In fact, Shang had gotten so far as to even _buy_ a new set--which he had changed into for a good first impression when he met _her_.

And now, as he stood next to his horse before their door, he was suddenly overcome with a desire to bolt away, never looking back. But he had to do this. If nothing else, for the emperor's task. And slowly, he raised his hand and knocked on the door.

It was later opened by the person he hoped would _not_ open it--Fa Mulan. Upon seeing her, he felt his heart freeze in place and the world around him come to a standstill, his eyes fixed upon her face. She was just as beautiful--if not more--since he last remembered her. A curtain of smooth, black hair--a natural blush on her cheeks. Her eager eyes and her soft, red lips. It was she who spoke first.

"Shang?" she asked uncertainly, as if she was not sure what she was seeing. And he couldn't blame her; it was his fault for not contacting her in the past year.

He instantly snapped out of his daze and colored slightly. "Oh, uh, Mulan," he said, flustered. Why was it that his mind always blanked out when he came in such close proximity to her? He'd planned out everything he was going to say, and how he was going to say it. And all for nothing, now.

Her eyes wandered to his dapple grey steed. "Would you like me to put him with Khan?" she offered.

"Oh... err, yes, that would be nice. Thank you."

She nodded and she took the reins of the horse and led him to the pen in which Khan was kept. Once the door was properly locked, Mulan turned back toward Shang, who had been oddly silent the whole time. Finally, she spoke up. "Is... is there something you wanted to say?"

"Yes," he replied instantly, then chided himself for the lack of character that he had been hoping for. He paused, trying to regain some self-control. "The emperor has requested to see you, for reasons that he did not directly mention."

Mulan paused. "But he did mention it, even though it was not direct, didn't he?" she said, analyzing his word choice.

"Well..." He hesitated. He was afraid to answer her, for fear of what a fool he'd make of himself again. "Along the lines of helping an Imperial army."

She suddenly faltered, her eyes flickering away. "The commander?" she said, her voice a mere whisper. He didn't quite understand the change in her mood, but he had no choice but to respond to her.

"Me." He searched her face for any sign of emotion, but the only one he saw was one of sadness.

She sighed and shook her head. "I can't."

"What do you mean?" Shang said, utterly confused. Who disobeyed the emperor's order? A terrifying thought swept over him. Perhaps it was because of _him_. Perhaps she resented him for that full year that he didn't communicate, and wanted nothing to do with him. His heart ached at the mere thought.

She sighed once more, only this time it was exasperated rather than weary. "Look, Shang," she started, "a lot of things have happened since the year you've been gone."

He felt his blood run cold. What did she mean?

"...And I can't," she finished off, lamely. "I can't. I'm not saying I don't want to; I'm saying I can't." She turned away to leave, but he caught onto her wrist, holding it firmly so that she couldn't go.

"Why?" he asked her, his eyes searching hers, his grip tightening. "Why can't you?"

Her voice was quiet and weak when she finally spoke after her hesitation. "He wouldn't let me."

"Who wouldn't let you?" he pressed on.

She attempted to break away and run once more, but he caught ahold of her shoulder. "Tell me," he said, his voice low. "Who wouldn't let you?"

She refused to look at him when she did answer. "Hei Jing-Qiou."

That name struck a familiar chord in Shang's mind. Where did that name sound familiar? But it did not matter now; he was desperate to know of this man's relation to Mulan. He this he asked her. She seemed awkward and hesitant to reply, but he forced it out of her, as much as it hurt him.

"He's my fiancé."

And that sentence murdered him on the inside, and he tried his best not to let it show. He choked on his words as he spoke. "Oh, that's--um, congratulations," he said, feeling incredibly awkward as he let go of her. He instantly understood her position. They wanted a perfect housewife--not an intellegent wife that was capable of becoming more than the husband ever would. And what could she do about it? "So I guess that's why then."

He acted indifferent, but he longed to tell her that she deserved more than that Jing-Qiou, that he was right for her. He longed to take her into his arms and whisper into her ear about all his feelings for her. But he couldn't. Even if the marriage had not been set, he would not be brave enough to do so. It was improper, anyways. And it was dishonorable.

And it was even more dishonorable because she already had a to-be husband waiting.

"When is the wedding?" he asked, attempting to be casual. She looked up, startled, as though this was not the question she had expected.

She frowned, trying to focus her memory. "A few months," she said, her voice low. "A few months."

That was it. A few months to think up of an ingenious plan to sweep her off her feet and pursuade her to marry him instead. A few months to find away to get rid of Jing-Qiou from the picture.

"They don't like you."

He was surprised by the sudden comment that was so far from his train of thought. "Sorry?" he asked, wanting an explanation.

"They... well, Hei Jing-Qiou's father, mainly... don't like you," she said quietly, looking away. "They would never let me aid any army, let alone yours." She paused. "In fact, they would not permit me to see you at all." She turned to look at him desperately. "Please go. Forget about my existance, and I'll forget about yours. We'll both live on our lives like it's supposed to be."

He wanted to tell her no, that it wasn't how things were supposed to be. That he would never be able to forget her, no matter how hard he tried--and he would die if she forgot him. But he couldn't--he didn't. And it pained him to know that she didn't care for him half as much as he did for her. "You're not married to him yet," he whispered. "You still have your last months of freedom."

She shook her head. "If that were the case," she said sadly, "then I would have been long gone." She looked up at him. "Go. Go back to where you belong, and never come back here. Never look back. And should you chance to ever see me again, pretend as though you do not know me, and I am nothing but a stranger to you."

He knew that this was what she wanted, but what she wanted, he could not give. Likewise, she couldn't offer what he desperately needed. Knowing that he could not confess his feelings to her, he attempted a different tactic. "Then what of the emperor?"

She sighed. "You'll think of something," she said. "You're intelligent."

But he only shook his head, thinking to himself. If he was intelligent, then he would have made a move for her that potential night one year ago. But he wasn't. She opened the door to the pen and led his horse out, telling that he should mount it.

"If they are to come across here and see you," she said, "they would assume the worst."

And he was in a state that he was willing to do whatever it was to make her happy, even if it killed him. "Is there any chance that I will see you in the army one day?"

"I would," she whispered, "but the chances are highly unlikely. Don't wager on it." She looked at him one last time. "I bid you the final farewell."

He sighed. Was it really the end? "And you, as well." He paused before turning the horse around. "Good luck." Casting one last glance over his shoulder, he started to canter away, hoping that things would turn out better than it would seem.

Despite the knowledge wedged deep within his mind that nothing would ever work out.

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Only minutes after Shang had left, she saw Jing-Qiou and his father enter their farm. She breathed a sigh of relief; it was lucky that she'd gotten Shang to leave when he did.

The pair quickly saw her and they came over to her, much to her regret. As they dismounted their horses, Shua-Guong and Jing-Qiou both said their greetings, and Mulan bowed in return. What came next was not exactly what Mulan had expected, but she thought nothing more of Shua-Guong--he was a man who was to the point and rather direct about it, but, should he wish to do so, was able to force words out of people rather slyly. "I have seen someone that I had not expected to see on the ride here, Mulan."

Mulan looked up, startled. "There are many people in the Middle Kingdom that pass through this area. Of whom may you be referring to?" Her words were polite, but not at all appreciated by Shua-Guong, who preferred a woman of less intellect for his son. Mulan had noticed that his son rarely spoke for himself; it was mainly his father directing his actions for him.

Wrinkling his nose in disgust, Shua-Guong looked toward her with a cautioning glance, as if telling her not to be so clever next time. "A person by the name of Li Shang," he replied. "I know you are familiar with him."

Mulan chose her words carefully, not wanting to anger Shua-Guong any futher than he already was. "Somewhat," she said. "'Associated' would be a better term; I would not say I know him quite so much as to be _familiar_ with him. He was--and is--nothing more than my previous captain." She knew that she was, indeed, rather familiar with Shang, but she was starting anew now. Mulan, the heroine of China, lived no more. In its place was a commoner who was destined to be no more than a perfect housewife.

"If that is the case," Shua-Guong said slowly, his voice hinting a little ice behind it, "then what was he doing here?"

She decided to tell them part of the truth, if nothing more, and act as though the meeting was purely business. "The emperor had sent him to request my aid for an army--in what particular form of aid, he did not specify." She hesitated before continuing, meeting their anticipated yet angry looks. "I declined."

Relief visibly flooded through Jing-Qiou and Shua-Guong merely looked a bit more relaxed. Mulan wished that she could have run away with Shang, but she wasn't willing to test the limits that Shua-Guong would stretch to in order to take her back with a bit of punishment added as well.

She understood that Wu-Di would have defended her, and his rule was the ultimate; however, Shua-Guong was a slippery sort of man and could easily slide through any sort of precaution and might cause brutal harm to her while she slept in false security.

She, in sort, wasn't willing to take any chances.

Closing her eyes for a brief moment, she sighed inwardly. If only things could have been just a little different.

Just a little.

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**Historical Note:**

I hadn't meant to do this, but I stumbled across this bit of information purely by accident.

General Li was one of the greatest soldiers in Wu-Di's dynasty and never lost a battle, until his fight with the Huns, where they were overpowered. He surrendered and started to plan a surprise attack on them, but the councilmen twisted the truth and informed Wu-Di of Li's surrender. Thus, Li's wife and mother were both sent to be killed as punishment.

One man (whose name I cannot recall) believed that if Li had surrendered, he must have done so for a reason, but Wu-Di payed him no heed and he was sent to prison.

It doesn't really fit in with the Disney version--considering the emperor's potrayed kindness toward the end--but it's interesting all the same. XD

Please leave your opinions in a review!


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